While President Trump deserves enormous credit for helping secure the release of our hostages, it is equally clear that this achievement was made possible by the tireless dedication of our soldiers and the steadfast commitment of Jews in Israel and around the world. Our collective devotion to this cause stems, in no small measure, from being raised within a tradition that teaches that every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim—in the image of God. Each of us, therefore, possesses infinite worth, and saving a single life is tantamount to saving an entire world.
And yet, on October 7, we witnessed the horrific acts of a barbaric terrorist organization that attacked innocent civilians—women, the elderly, even babies—and held many hostage in conditions that defy human comprehension. How, we must ask, can people commit such acts of cruelty and barbarism? Were they not, too, created in the image of God? Do they not recognize that other human beings were likewise fashioned in His image?
There are no easy answers to this question but one insight may be found in Parashat Bereishit, which we read this week.
In Genesis 1:26–27, we read:
“God said, ‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. They shall rule the fish of the sea, the birds of the sky, the cattle, the whole earth, and all creeping things that creep on earth.’ And God created man in His image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.”
According to this passage, humanity—and humanity alone—was endowed with a divine-like quality referred to as Tzelem Elohim. Some interpret this as implying a physical resemblance to God; others understand it as a reference to our possession of godlike attributes such as intelligence, free will, self-awareness, and spirituality. Still others view it as signifying our role as God’s representatives on earth. However one interprets it, the message is clear: human beings occupy the highest rung of creation, imbued with a godly essence that sets us apart from all other creatures. We are, in a sense, walking, talking reflections of the Divine.
Yet, as I discuss in my book In the Beginnings: Discovering the Two Worldviews Hidden within Genesis 1–11 (available on Amazon at bit.ly/In-the-Beginnings), the Torah also presents a second, very different account of human creation.
In Genesis 2:7 we read:
“The Lord God formed man (adam) from the dust of the earth (adamah). He blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living being.”
Here, humanity is not created in the image of God, but rather formed from the dust from the earth—similar to the animals (verse 19). The very name adam (אָדָם, human) is derived from adamah (אֲדָמָה, earth), suggesting that our essence is drawn not from heaven above but from the earth below. The human being in this account is humble dust, possessing no intrinsic worth until God infuses him with the breath of life.
Thus, Genesis offers two contrasting portraits of humanity. The first depicts the human being as the noblest of creatures—endowed with divine likeness and unparalleled dignity. The second portrays us as the lowliest of creatures, fashioned from mere dust of the earth. Which, then, is true?
I believe that the Torah’s genius lies in teaching that both are true. We have the capacity to achieve greatness and to reach heights unlike any other creature on earth—or to descend to the depths of depravity. Whether we become the one or the other is a matter of personal choice.
We, as a people, have chosen the path of the divine image: affirming life, sanctity, and compassion. Hamas, by contrast, has chosen the path of dust—of cruelty, barbarity, and moral decay.
Let us pray that, as this war draws to its end, the world will follow our lead, and recognize the divine spark within every human being, so that we can yet usher in an era of peace, justice, and human dignity for all.
Shabbat Shalom.
